I saw a cat and I thought of you.

Sehun snorts at his screen and taps out a reply.

You think of me all the time.

The cat was ugly.

“Who’re you texting? Jongin? Your boyfriend that you refuse to admit is your boyfriend?”

Chanyeol’s words floats in one ear and out the other.

“He’s not my boyfriend,” Sehun replies absently, and types out another reply.

you – you’re sleeping on the couch tonight.








“Taemin invited me to a frat party tomorrow night – do you want to come?”

Sehun sets a bottle of beer down on the table and glances up from his textbook. Jongin, his best friend and roommate, is looking back at him expectantly. “Can’t. Big test Monday. Go without me.”

“Aw,” Jongin pouts, slumping down onto their bed. “It won’t be fun without you.”

Scribbling down a couple of notes, Sehun his lips and leans back in his seat.

“Fine, you can send me drunk pictures.”

Jongin grins and pinches Sehun’s cheek.

“But if you send me a picture of Baekhyun’s bare one more time, I’m going to block your number.”

Jongin salutes in understanding, and is about to leave Sehun to his studying when Sehun reaches out and grabs him by the waistband of his sweatpants.

“I want another beer.”

“Coming right up, princess.”


“I’m not a princess,” Sehun snipes, twirling his pen between his fingers.

“You’re my princess,” Jongin sings, and darts out of the room before Sehun can yank him back and hit him hard enough to leave a bruise for days.








The next night, Jongin’s dropped off at their apartment by a very loud duo consisting of Baekhyun and Jongdae. Sehun opens the door wide enough for them to deposit Jongin down by his feet, but not wide enough for them to slink inside. Once in the apartment, they can stay for hours, filling up the place with jokes only the two of them understand. Might sound tolerable to some, but Sehun hates it.

“Thanks,” Sehun says, heaving Jongin up by his collar. His best friend slumps into his side familiarly, and Sehun steadies himself against Jongin’s weight. “See you.”

“Wait!” Baekhyun hollers, and Sehun keeps the door open reluctantly. “Tell Jongin he’s got numbers in his pocket. Numbers of some really cute guys. And tell him he’s welcome.”

“Right,” Sehun says shortly, and shuts the door in his face. He hears Jongdae’s snigger loud and clear through the door.

Depositing Jongin onto their bed, Sehun makes quick work in ridding Jongin of his shoes and clothes that emanate the ever-strong stench of alcohol. He wipes Jongin’s face with a damp towel, and after throwing the covers over Jongin’s bare torso, he leaves the room to get a little more studying done.

Hours later, at the crack of dawn, Jongin wakes up with a horribly dry throat and a pounding headache. He turns to his left and spies a glass of water, aspirin tablets by its side. Gulping them down gratefully, he turns to his right almost whacks his nose into the curve of Sehun’s back. After pausing to let his eyes focus, Jongin gazes at the faint bumps of Sehun’s spine, eyes trailing down the gentle slope before landing on the scatter of freckles down by the small of his back. He can map each and every one of those freckles by memory, having seen them so regularly since freshman year of high school.

Even the warmth of Sehun’s skin is familiar – Sehun’s body temperature isn’t as high as the average person, and the heat Jongin feels against his own body every night is always uniquely comfortable. Sehun shifts then, in the way that Jongin’s come to recognise as him waking up, and Jongin freezes. His tongue suddenly feels heavy in his mouth, and Jongin hurriedly downs the rest of the water in the glass.

“Already awake?” Sehun asks, voice thick with sleep. Soft, blond hair falls over his closed eyes, and Jongin thinks Sehun is in need of a haircut.

“Yeah,” Jongin croaks back. Sehun makes a sleepy, noncommittal noise in response, and promptly falls back asleep.

Tugging the covers up around the both of them, Jongin lets it settle down by their waists, and the hem comes to rest on the faint scar running down Sehun’s hip. It’s been two years since that day, and Sehun still refuses to let Jongin near any of the kitchen knives. Jongin doesn’t blame him.

Wincing at the memory, Jongin presses down on his eyes and exhales, blinking up at the ceiling. He should probably try to sleep his hangover off. Before he closes his eyes, he reaches over and runs his thumb over Sehun’s scar gently – Sehun doesn’t seem to feel it.








The first thing Sehun sees when he exits the exam hall on Monday is Jongin, lithe frame leaning against the bulletin board, a flyer hovering just above his head. Sehun can only imagine the poor, crumpled fliers beneath Jongin’s back.

“Stop ruining things,” Sehun comments, walking up to Jongin and pulling him off the wall. Sure enough, multiple fliers are wrinkled. Jongin simply shrugs and slings an arm across Sehun’s shoulders.

“How’d your test go?”

“As well as it could go,” Sehun replies, pushing his hair away from his eyes.

The cafeteria is packed, as per usual, and Jongin narrowly avoids having curry knocked down his shirt thanks to Sehun, who pulls him aside in the nick of time.

“Why do you never watch where you’re going?” Sehun asks, but Jongin knows he isn’t expecting an answer. So he doesn’t reply, choosing instead to make a face that Sehun rolls his eyes in response to.

They manage to make it to their table without any other mishaps, and Jongin pushes a plate of food over to Sehun that he had gotten beforehand. Sehun nudges Jongin’s foot in thanks, and promptly proceeds to shovel rice into his mouth. Jongin flicks a grain of rice away from the corner of Sehun’s lip and redirects his attention onto his phone.

Chanyeol looks at the both of them and rolls his eyes – Zitao sniggers. Sehun kicks the both of them in their shins.








There’s music floating out from the crack between the studio door and its frame, and Jongin pushes it further open to find Sehun coming out of a freeze.

“You’re here early,” Jongin comments, stepping inside as Sehun pulls his shirt up to wipe sweat off his forehead.

“Class let out early,” Sehun replies, grabbing the bottle of water Jongin tosses at him. “And I’ve been a little behind, so I thought I’d use the time to catch up. Is there new choreography I haven’t learned?”


“Yeah, actually. A verse. It’s not too complicated – you should be able to pick it up pretty quickly. Here, I’ll teach you.”

Sehun shifts a few steps to the side when Jongin walks over, and Jongin wastes no time in demonstrating the verse that Sehun had missed out on learning due to a the sudden influx of student union activities. Sehun watches intently as Jongin dances — no longer awestruck by Jongin's talent due to constant exposure, Sehun focuses on the steps themselves, on the way Jongin's arm bends at a particular angle and the way his feet slide with resistance. Jongin runs through the section a couple of times before looking over at Sehun.

"Good?"

"Yeah," Sehun replies, "should be relatively easy. Come on — teach me."

With the help of his best friend, Sehun picks up the verse in half an hour. Jongin's in the middle of manually adjusting the angle of Sehun's hips when the door opens and the rest of the dance team files in.

"Would you two like a moment?" Minseok asks casually, gesturing to Jongin's hands fitted around Sehun's hips.

"No," Sehun replies easily, "but thanks."

Giving Jongin a nod, Sehun steps away from Jongin's hands and strides over to the sound system. Jongin himself frowns at Minseok, who looks back him innocently.

"One more time?" Sehun asks, finger poised over the Play button.

Jongin flashes him a thumbs up.

An hour and a half later, their thin cotton shirts are thoroughly drenched in sweat and the moon is hanging high in the sky.

"Wait," Sehun pants, grabbing Jongin's wrist and holding him back from getting their bags. "I want to run it through again."

"Okay," Jongin says, "go ahead. I'll wait."

"With you," Sehun adds. "Unless you're tired and need a break? Is your back alright?"

"That's okay; I'll dance with you."

A rare, soft smile appears across Sehun's lips and Jongin stares long enough to commit it to memory before he glances away. As Sehun fiddles with the stereo, Jongin locks eyes with Taemin, who looks pointedly at Sehun's back before returning his gaze to Jongin. Jongin looks back at him quizzically. Sighing, Taemin shakes his head and leaves the studio.

Music floods the room and Jongin settles in position, muscle memory serving him well.

"Remind me to get you a hot pack when we get home," Sehun mumbles, pushing sweaty hair out of his eyes as he joins Jongin.

"My back's fine —"

"Don't bother trying," Sehun says, and promptly stops talking when the music starts up.








On a Saturday morning, Sehun wakes up to horrible cramps in his back and neck to find Jongin's legs thrown obnoxiously over his lap. Jongin himself is sound asleep, his favourite sleeping tank riding up his torso. A bleary glance around the living room serves to jog Sehun's memory — they had settled down for a movie night (a.k.a an excuse for a whole meal consisting of just junk food and beer) when Jongin had fallen asleep halfway through the film.

The blanket's all bundled up beneath them, and Sehun doesn't have the heart to jostle Jongin during an attempt to free it. Still tired, he shifts awkwardly and twists around to get a better angle; once satisfied, he rests his cheek on Jongin's chest and closes his eyes.

He wakes up a couple of hours later to the blanket wrapped snugly around his shoulders and Jongin's arm draped down his side. The TV's on, and Sehun can just make out the sound of a man talking. Tilting his head up, he catches sight of Jongin's profile.

"Hey," he says, voice thick.

"Afternoon," Jongin answers, looking away from the screen to gaze down at Sehun's face. "I hope you're not cramped and uncomfortable."

Sehun takes a second to think about it.

"I'm not. This is quite comfortable."

Jongin smiles and turns back towards the television, arm still slung around Sehun. Sehun realises he isn't uncomfortable with any part of this set up whatsoever.

He shuts his eyes, breathes in Jongin's ever-familiar scent, and focuses on the rise and fall of the solidness under his cheek.








Jongin's the first one to crack.

It's been a long time coming, and deep down, neither of them can deny that fact. It's a Wednesday, and Jongin's just about to leave for class when he spies Sehun wandering into the bathroom, hair a messy mop atop his head.

The faucet turns on, and the sound of Sehun brushing his teeth reaches Jongin's ears soon after. He waits until he hears Sehun rinse out his mouth before walking up to the door.

"Can I say something?"

Sehun looks at him through the mirror and nods.

"I'm in love with you. And you're in love with me too."

Sehun pauses, hand outstretched and in the middle of reaching for his face wash. Jongin's running late — something he absolutely hates — but right now, he couldn't care less.

"Jongin, what —"

"Tell me I'm wrong. Tell me you don't look at me and wonder what it's like to have me kiss you, hold you, want you. Tell me you don't want more whenever I give you a hug, whenever you're around me when I have my shirt off. Tell me you don't feel that pang in your heart whenever I hold your hand for little bit longer than usual or when I brush your hair out of your eyes in the morning because you're too lazy to do so. Tell me it doesn't mean anything to you that you know my favourite jello flavour or my favourite toothpaste. That you are willing to take care of me when I'm drunk and annoying and loud."

Sehun's standing ramrod straight at this point, eyes transfixed on Jongin's face.

"I have loved you for years, but I've been content with whatever we are. Until now. Now, I'm not going to be content until I have you."

"It's almost nine, Jongin. You're going to be late for —"

Stepping forward, Jongin knocks the face wash out of Sehun's trembling fingers before covering them with his own.

"I don't care," Jongin stresses.

He can see the tension in Sehun's neck, and Sehun refuses to meet his eyes. Sehun’s fingers are clammy, something that only happens when he’s nervous. No one else knows this, because he doesn’t let anyone apart from Jongin hold his hands.

"Can we just talk about this later? I —"

All it takes is Jongin’s thumb pressing slightly on Sehun's chin to shut him up. The two take a second to register the fact that said thumb is mere millimetres away from Sehun's bottom lip, and after Jongin fully digests that little tidbit of information, he leans in and pulls the swell of Sehun's lip ever so lightly in-between his own.

Hands seem to be rendered useless for the longest time. Then, tentatively, Sehun places one on Jongin's waist and presses back against Jongin's lips.

"I want you to be okay with this," Jongin blurts, pulling away to speak. "I don't want you to feel as though you have to make me happy because we've been friends for a long time and —"

"I look at you when you're asleep and wonder what it's like to kiss you. I wonder the same thing when you're awake, which is why I try so hard not to look at you for prolonged periods of time when we talk. Whenever you're close to me I want to hold you, to touch you. I love it when you fix my hair and when you brush food away from my mouth. I love how you know what I want to eat and when I want to eat it. I love that you love me, too."







"Eat this," Jongin orders, pressing a grape against Sehun's mouth.

Grimacing, Sehun shies away and peers at the fruit between Jongin's fingers.

"Why."

"You don't eat enough fruit."

"May I remind you of that day I had an entire fruit salad and —"

"That was two years ago."

Sehun opens his mouth and lets Jongin drop the grape inside.

"Something is different," Chanyeol observes. There's a crease between his eyebrows that looks vaguely like a crinkled sheet of tofu paper.

"He's come to the realisation that I look amazing . Under him."

Jongin simply snorts at Sehun's words and force feeds him more grapes. Chanyeol gapes at them, and Zitao bursts into applause.

"Oh yeah," Sehun continues, turning to Jongin. "Baekhyun told me to tell you he got you some cute guys' numbers. It was the day of that party you went to? Taemin’s? I might've accidentally forgotten to tell you on purpose."

"Don't care," Jongin answers, swallowing a mouthful of food. "I only need yours. And I have it memorised."

"I knew there was a reason why I had to get those numbers for him when he could've easily gotten them himself," Baekhyun says, raising his fork. "I just knew it."

Jongin looks up from his plate and admits, "I haven't tried to get anyone's number ever since I met Sehun."

"Gross," Jongdae announces, and stands. "I'm leaving."

Sehun, with a passive and nonchalant face, links fingers with Jongin under the table before saying a short and simple: “Bye.”